Misreading
by BellaSWilson
Summary: The second sequel to Belgian Chocolate, reading of which is recommended, not necessary. SpaMano, some angst  but also humor , Lovino's potty mouth, mentions of other pairings. Some mild sexual content, but probably heavier than my previous stories
1. Chapter 1

This takes place just seconds after Natalia announces her engagement to Bella.

"Oh, Lovi! Isn't that so sweet? They're getting married! We should get married. Then I could fuck you every day and no one could-"

"Don't say stuff like that, you bastard! There are _people _here, dammit!"

Antonio grinned lewdly at his boyfriend. "Oh Lovi, you know no one's listening. See? Look!" He held his hands up to the sides of his mouth, so as to amplify his voice to break through the chaos that was currently plaguing the meeting room. "HEY!" he yelled. "I wanna fuck Lovi _every_ day!"

Lovino twitched at this, quickly becoming livid. "Spain! What the hell is wr-"

"Onhonhon! Is that so, Antonio? I'd like that too! May I join?" Lovino froze at the interruption. Francis was grinning over at him, wearing what could only be accurately called a "rape face". The blond winked at the poor little Italian, loving the look on his face.

"Lo siento Francis! Lovi's only mine!" Antonio called out to his friend, sounding as if Francis had simply asked for a bite of his super-delicious-sandwich-that-he-did-not-want-to-share, as opposed to stealing the most important person in his life.

Lovino shot Antonio a death glare at his light tone. _He does that all the time. He acts like he wouldn't really care if that pervert _did_ rape me. Like I don't even matter. _Antonio continued to be oblivious to the hole being drilled into the side of his head by his boyfriend for several minutes before the younger country finally gave up. _See? He doesn't even notice me!_ "Stupid bastard," he mumbled sullenly.

"Eh? What was that Lovi?" Antonio asked, finally noticing him.

His eyes looked so genuinely bright. Like he was happy just to _be_. _How can one person be so happy all the time? I could probably just up and leave and he'd keep smiling. _Lovino sighed. "Nothing."

Antonio looked concerned at his sudden change of mood. "Lovi, are you all right?" His green eyes darkened with worry, a look that Lovino often saw when the Spaniard looked at him.

_I've only ever seen him look that way with me. It seems like he's always smiling otherwise. Why am I the only one that he frowns at? _"I'm fine bastard," he muttered half-heartedly.

"Okay Lovi!" he replied brightly, satisfied with the answer.

The ruckus around them continued for some time. Feeling unwell, Lovino put his head down on the table and listened to Antonio's idle chatter with Greece until he finally succumbed to sleep, the room around him going black as consciousness slipped from him.

_Lovino opened his eyes and saw the Spanish countryside. Not Spain the person, but the country. The sun beat down on him and it was hot, but he did not find it entirely unpleasant. He looked around. Everything that he saw on the ground was either green or red. He was in a tomato field. _Of course. It's always tomatoes, isn't it?_It was the middle of summer and the tomatoes seemed to be doing very well. Lovino's mouth began to water at the sight of them, but of course they were a couple dozen metres away. _Figures.

_Hungry, the Italian slowly made his way toward the juicy red fruits, anxious to finally bite into them. They just looked so perfect! He approached the edge of the field with a small smile. Reaching out, he grabbed one of the round fruits. Yet even as his hand closed around it, the tomato fell apart_, _the juice running down over his wrist. He jerked back, surprised that it had been destroyed so easily. He looked at the tomato. It was no longer red, but a sorry brown. He sniffed it and found that it was giving off a most foul stench. He waved his hand wildly, trying to get the disgusting juices off. _

_He stepped back in his mild panic and slipped on a tomato which had fallen_. _He fell hard, but found that the ground was soft with filthy, rotten tomatoes. He was sitting in a pile of fruits which should have been eaten weeks ago, hungry flies beginning to buzz around them. Lovino jumped up, feeling rather unsettled by the repugnant mess. _

_He was standing now and looked down at himself. He was covered in debris. Surely he smelled as bad as the tomatoes themselves. Suddenly, the tomatoes began to pile up around him, the level growing higher quickly."Shit! I don't know what to do!" He looked around wildly for assistance. "Spain!" he called. He was nearly up to his thighs in putrid tomatoes."Spain!_" _he tried again. They were past his waist now. "ANTONIO!" he cried desperately. Just as he did, he hand was pulled roughly, making the tomatoes around him fall away immediately. _

"Lovi! Lovi, mi querido, are you all right?" Antonio cried, yanking on Lovino's hand, trying to wake him from his apparent nightmare.

The little brunet awoke with a start to find himself shaking, sweaty, and in Antonio's arms. But not in a good way. He looked around with wide, frightened eyes. He was still in the meeting room, just where he had been sitting before. The only ones in the room were he, Antonio, and Feliciano, who was staring at him with big doe-eyes, looking terrified. "Oh God," he groaned. "It was only a dream." His voice was hoarse and positively dripping with relief.

So was Antonio's when he spoke. "Lovi, I'm so glad you're okay. I was really worried!" He hand was over his heart, trying to drive the dread that had settled there away.

Lovino looked up at the man. _There's that look again._ He frowned. "I'm fine. It was just a nightmare, dumbass."

Antonio stared at him intently for a few more moments. "If you say so. But it's time to go home now. Are you ready?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm ready. Let's go," Lovino said moodily, standing up and stretching a little bit.

"Fratello, are you sure you're all right?" Feliciano spoke up for the first time.

The older Italian turned to his brother. "I'm fine Feli. I promise." He always did hold a soft spot for those sweet little eyes, even though they were so rarely open, as they were now.

Antonio looked blankly from one brother to the other, looking like he was beginning to see something unpleasant. "Let's go Lovi," he said quietly. Lovino nodded and the two left, leaving Feliciano to go find Ludwig alone.

There will be no itacest in this fic. Just letting you know. But I'm sure you can see that Antonio worries about it. Yes, SpaMano is my otp, and yes, I tend to make them angstier than is necessary. But I can't help it. They're both so dense, it's bound to lead to problems. Anyway, review, take my poll, etc.


	2. Chapter 2

"So... What was your nightmare about Lovi?" Antonio asked casually, glancing over at the Italian that sat next to him on the sofa.

"Why does it matter?" Lovino snapped. He was irritated because the idiot had been asking about his nightmare for hours. But he didn't want to admit that what had scared him so much was rotten tomatoes. Because that's completely un-manly. And Lovino was anything but un-manly. Obviously.

Antonio looked at him with heavy eyes. "Lovi. Help me out here. Please. You worry me sick and then you act like nothing's wrong. Please tell me what it was. I can help! I want to!" He was pleading now, staring helplessly at the man, leaning forward.

The closeness of Antonio's face did not go unnoticed, and Lovino's own cheeks began to burn and his heart twinged at the pathetic look he was being given. He sighed uncomfortably. "You really want to hear it?" he asked, his face unsure.

"Por favor!" Antonio replied enthusiastically, glad to be finally getting his way.

_Should I just tell him my real dream? _Lovino sighed, trying to act annoyed. "Okay, so I was in Spain," Antonio grinned. "Shut up. The actual country. Anyway, I saw a tomato field and I was hungry. And they looked really good, too. All ripe and shit. So I picked one. But it kinda just fell apart in my hand. I looked at it again and it was rotten." The green-eyed man grimaced. "So I tried to get the nasty shit off my arm, but I slipped and fell into a pile of rotten tomatoes. Fuckin' gross. And they smelled terrible. I stood up and they sort of rose around me."

"What do you mean they rose?"

"It was sort of like I was standing in a puddle at first, but the puddle just got deeper and deeper. I tried to call for your help, but you didn't come until I was up to my waist in grossness," Lovino finished with a pout.

Antonio smiled. "Oh Lovi! That's what scared you so much?"

"What? Who the hell said I was scared, bastardo?"

The brunet held up his hands in surrender. "Right, right. Sorry. I know my little tomato doesn't get scared," he giggled a bit.

The Italian rolled his eyes. "That's right I don't. Idiot." Antonio laughed and scooted closer to his boyfriend, wrapping his arms around his waist comfortingly. Lovino hesitated, but leaned into the embrace nonetheless.

They sat for about a minute, listening to one another's breathing. Antonio nuzzled the other's hair with his nose. "Te amo Lovi," he said softly. Lovino muttered something unintelligible in response and snuggled just a bit closer. The Spaniard smiled at this. "Heh. I never get to do this with you. I like it."

"Don't get used to it bastard," came the grumbled response.

"I wouldn't dream of it." He kissed the top of his head gently.

_Shouldn't this make me feel better? Shouldn't I be happy that he does this kind of thing for me? I think so. But it doesn't make me feel better at all. He goes to all this trouble just for me. Honestly, without me here, I think Antonio's life would be ten times easier. No one else makes him worry like that. I wonder if he minds that. I know I would hate to be my boyfriend. _

"What are you thinking about Lovi?"

"Eh? Nothing. Just zoning out."

"No you weren't. That was your thinking face."

Lovino sat up and looked his boyfriend in the eye. "My what?"

"Your thinking face. You always wear it when your deep in thought. So what is it?"

"I'm just not going to mention how creepy that is," Lovino answered, face ablaze. "But it's nothing important."

Antonio's brow furrowed in that familiar look of worry, which Lovino recognized immediately, his heart giving a little pang. "Are you sure?"

Lovino scowled, his pleasant mood ruined just by that single look which he so hated. "Yes I'm sure!" he cried defensively. Antonio was silent and stared at him with the same look. Uncomfortable, the little Italian opted to leave. "I'm going to bed," he muttered.

The older man watched him for a few more moments before speaking. "Sleep well Lovi. I'll be there in a bit." The other waved him off dismissively as he headed off to their bedroom. When he was out of sight, Antonio sighed and sank into his sofa.

_He never tells me anything unless I force him. What could he possibly have to hide? _He looked around the room wearily. His eye caught an old picture of Lovino. He was standing with one arm around Feliciano and a small smile on his face. Antonio scowled. _It seems like he likes Feliciano better than he likes me. _His eyebrows knitted themselves together. _I wonder if he actually does like him better. He never yells at him, never calls him a bastard or an idiot or anything else. I wonder if.. I wonder if maybe he doesn't like me after all. He's always yelling at me. _He watched the hand on the clock change to show midnight. _Did I force him into this? _He put his head in his hands and rubbed his eyes. _I always thought he was just embarrassed, but I could have been misreading his actions this whole time. _

Antonio looked sullenly up at the ceiling. "Lovino and Feliciano," he whispered to no one.

Wow! I was surprised by the number of people who voted that I was from America in my poll. You silly geese. I commend the ONE person who picked France. *applause* I am actually from Champagne. I moved here (New Jersey) when I was ten. My mother is from America originally and she taught me English, so it was never really a problem. Thanks for voting everyone!


	3. Chapter 3

"Feli, why the fuck did you bring the potato bastard into my house?"

"I'm sorry fratello! Don't hurt me! I just wanted us to all have dinner together!"

"Yeah well I don't want my dinner poisoned by potatoes!"

"Fratello, he's not going to poison anything!"

Ludwig looked over at Antonio. "So is he like this with you too?"

"What do you mean?" Lovino continued to condemn everything German and potato related in the background.

"I mean is he always so... how do I put this..."

"Pissy?" Antonio smiled.

"Yes," the blond breathed, glad he wasn't the one to have to say it.

The Spaniard considered this. "Usually, but not always. Like sometimes when we cuddle after sex he'll..." Ludwig blushed, not really wanting to hear about that. "...Say something really sweet and then it's worth the rest of the time. You know?" He looked over at the German, who nodded silently, seeming to find the bookcase very interesting. Lovino was still ranting and Antonio decided it was time to intervene. "Lovi, come on. Germany's not going to potatify anything. And if he does we can get rid of him, okay?"

"Spain, you'd get rid of Ludwig?" Feliciano asked incredulously, pouting.

Lovino crossed his arms and huffed, clearly won over. "Fine," he muttered. "But if I taste a single potato," he pointed menacingly at Ludwig, "I'll kick your ass myself. Got it?" Ludwig nodded and tried to keep from laughing.

The first argument of the night over, the Lovino, Feliciano, and Ludwig made their way to the dining room where the table had already been set. No one could deny that Antonio was a good host. As the other three sat down, he stepped into the kitchen to grab the food that he had made. He came into the dining room to a rather funny sight. Feliciano was looking worriedly from his brother to his boyfriend, seeming to be on the verge of tears, as he often did. Lovino was glaring harshly at the large blond, his arms folded stubbornly across his chest. Ludwig was looking intently at his folded hands, a very uncomfortable expression on his face.

"Food time!" Antonio sang, trying to break the tension.

The three looked at him. Feliciano was the one to smile widely. "Yay! What do we have Spain?"

"Paella," the Spaniard grinned.

"Tch. Of course," muttered Lovino.

"Oh Lovi. Paella's delicious. I know you love it!"

"Except you make it all the time bastard. Aren't you capable of making anything else?"

"I'll make something other than paella when you make something other than pasta or pizza, okay Lovi?" Antonio set the food down on the table and sat in the chair across from the older Italian, who just grunted and looked away, but not before scooping a generous amount of the food onto his plate.

"So Spain. I hope mi fratello has been nicer to you," Feliciano chirped through a mouthful of paella.

"Oh no. Not really," the Spaniard replied cheerfully. "But I don't mind. 'Cause I love him anyway."

"Bastard! Don't say that shit at the table!"

"Lovi!" Antonio whined. "It's not shit! It's true."

"Well you still shouldn't say stuff like that in front of my brother, idiot!"

Antonio's face went slightly hard. "Why not?" he asked, more quietly than before.

"Because it's...!" Lovino trailed off, noticing the man's expression.

"It's what, Lovino?" he whispered. _Go ahead. Say it. It's embarrassing. You don't want me to love you. Say it. Say it. SAY IT._

Ludwig looked from one man to the other. "Euh... we can... go if you want..." he suggested awkwardly.

"Go ahead," the Spaniard said quietly, never taking his eyes off the stunned Lovino.

The blond stood up. "Come on Feliciano. I think we should leave them alone." The little Italian stood up silently and obediently and the two left without a word.

_Why is he looking at me like that? _"What's wrong Spain?"

"I might ask you the same."

"What are you talking about idiot?"

"Tell me Lovi, why am I an idiot?"

Lovino sputtered. "Well... I... I don't know! You're just... What the hell is going on with you? You're never like this!"

"Well you're always like this," Antonio growled. "With me at least."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know. What _does_ it mean? Why do you insult_ me_ all the time but not _Feliciano_?"

Lovino was taken aback. "Feliciano? What are you saying?"

"I don't know Lovi! What am I saying?" Antonio stood up violently. "Why do you treat me like shit and him like a princess?"

"Hey! He's my little brother! I love him!"

"Don't you love me?"

"That's different!"

"How is it different Lovino?" the man asked dangerously. Silence. "How is it different?"

"Because he's my little brother," the Italian replied weakly.

"And you love him more."

"What?"

"Are you even sure you love me at all?"

"Of course I do!" Lovino blurted out. He immediately regretted it. "I mean... that is..."

"See? You can't even say it, much less _feel _it." The smaller man said nothing, but stared up at him. Antonio slumped back into his chair miserably. "God damn it." No reply. _I knew it. I forced him into this. He doesn't even care about me. _"Get out," he muttered, his face in his hands.

Lovino reached out timidly. "Spain..."

"Get out!" _He can't even call me by my name. _Angry, Lovino stood up and stomped out of the room, leaving Antonio alone to hate himself. _I'm so stupid. How could I not have noticed? I really am an idiot. But... he'll be happier with Feliciano. He'll be happier without me._

Lovino stormed outside, unable to believe what had just happened. "I knew it!" he yelled to no one. He rubbed his eyes, trying to get rid of his tears of frustration. _The way he looks at me. So unhappy. I knew he didn't want to be with me! And why should he? God damn it! I couldn't even say I love him! I'm so useless! Stupid bastard! Why did I have to love him so much? He'll just be happier without me. _

Ouch! My heart! Who'd have thought Antonio would break first? Weird. It just kind of came out that way. This is really sad. But there's a happy ending, I promise! Review review review!


	4. Chapter 4

Two weeks later

"Hey 'Toni! Wanna hang out today? There's this awesome new pub nearby and I want to show it to you and Francis!"

"No thanks, Gil," Antonio replied quietly.

"Aww come on. That little bitch depressing you?"

"He's not a bitch."

"Okay, fine. What'd he do? Call you an idiot one too many times?"

"Please stop talking Gilbert." The Spaniard put his head down in his arms.

"Woah, wait," the albino said incredulously. "Did something actually happen?"

"...We broke up."

Gilbert stared at his friend for a few seconds. "You've gotta be kidding."

Antonio shook his head. "Can I please go now?" He began to stand up.

"No wait!" Gilbert demanded, grabbing the other's arm. "You have to tell me what happened! Did he do something?"

"I don't want to talk about this..."

"No! Tell me! I gotta know if I should kick his ass? What did he do?"

Antonio grimaced. "It's not what he did. It's what I did."

Gilbert released his arm. "What do you mean? I know you didn't do anything..."

"But I did!"

"Like what?"

Antonio was silent for a while, thinking. He sat back down next to his friend. "Have you ever noticed that he yells at me more than other people?"

"No he doesn't. He yells at West more. Poor bastard."

"That's not what I mean. He yells at me even though he's supposed to love me. Don't you think that's weird?"

"'Toni, come on. He's just an un-awesome bitch. He seriously yells at everyone."

"Not Feliciano," Antonio said sharply, the bitterness showing through clearly.

"So what? You think he's in love with Feli or something?" He began to chuckle lightly, but the laughter quickly became uncomfortable when he saw his friend's face. "What? You're crazy!"

"That's what I thought at first. But... Gilbert, I just don't know."

"Come on! That's his little brother! He's just protective of him, that's all!"

"Is that all? I mean, that's one of the only times I ever see him smile." He fiddled with his thumbs. "Have you ever seen him smile with me?" He looked over at the albino, who smirked.

"Yes."

"When? Why haven't I ever seen it?"

"Because your back was turned."

"...What is that supposed to mean?"

"I know you couldn't notice this, but the kid stares at your ass. Like, a lot." He began to laugh again.

"Gilbert, that's not funny," Antonio deadpanned.

"Oh, lighten up."

"How can I lighten up? I don't think I've ever felt this bad in my life!"

"Listen Antonio," Gilbert said soothingly, trying to calm the frantic man. "I know for a fact that that kid loves you. A lot. I've seen the way he looks at you! And not just checking you out either. I've never seen him look at Feli that way."

"I just feel like I forced him into the entire thing. Like he just went along with it to shut me up."

"I don't think so."

"If he really loves me, then why does he act like he hates me. At first I thought he was just embarrassed, but lately..."

"'Toni. You have to talk to him. Soon." Antonio looked at his friend and slowly nodded. Gilbert stood up and stretched. "Call me when you get it figured out, okay?" The brunet nodded again. "Awesome. See ya, lover boy!" He patted Antonio on the head and walked out of the living room.

The Spaniard waited until he heard the door shut. "You're wrong, Gilbert," he muttered, fully intending to ignore his advice completely.

...

"Fratello, what happened with Spain?"

"Stop asking, dammit!"

"What happened with Spain?"

"Shut up!"

"What happened with Spain?"

"I can't hear you!"

"What happened with Spain?"

"Lalalalalalala" Lovino covered his ears childishly.

"HEY FRATELLO! WHAT HAPPENED WITH SPAIN?" Feliciano yelled at the top of his lungs, making sure that his brother heard him.

"Feli, please! I'm trying to work!" Ludwig peeked his head around the corner, scolding the little man.

"Oh, hi Ludwig!" he said cheerfully, waving to his boyfriend. "Lovino here won't tell me what happened or why he's depressed."

"I told you I'm not depressed!"

"Then why won't you get out of bed?"

"Because... I'm really... tired. So get out. Both of you."

"Not until you tell me what you did," Feliciano sang, not seeing the way that his brother twinged at the word 'you'.

"_I _didn't do shit," Lovino spat.

This caught the redhead's attention. "You mean Spain did something?" he asked, tilting his head to one side curiously, as if the idea were foreign to him.

"He _thinks_ I did something. But I didn't." Ludwig took this opportunity to slip awkwardly out of the room before anyone noticed.

"What do you mean, Fratello?" Feliciano sat down on the bed next to his brother.

Lovino sat up slowly. "Okay. Fine I'll tell you." Silence. "I don't know how he got the idea but..." he grimaced. "I think he thinks that we... you and I... are together."

"So? We are together, aren't we?"

"No. I mean... _romantically _together," he said uneasily.

It took a few seconds for Feliciano to respond to this, but his face quickly changed from confusion to disgust. "Eeewww!" he squealed girlishly.

"I know. But he... he said that I treat you better. And he told me to get out."

"Wait... _he_ told _you _to get out?"

Lovino looked from side to side, confused. "Yes...? Why else would I be here...?"

Feliciano's face went dark, positively murderous. "I can't believe he did that," he growled, standing up to leave.

"Feli?" Lovino said timidly, feeling very scared by his brother at the moment.

"I'm going to_ kill_ him," the younger Italian spat darkly. With that, he left the room.

"Feli? Feli, what the hell are you doing?" Lovino called after him, but to no avail. His angry little brother had already left and could no longer hear his pleas for his _ex-boyfriend's life._

Yay for angry Feli! Come on, you know he's not all innocent. Just a couple more chapters! Review people! I want to know what you think!


	5. Chapter 5

Antonio had fallen into a fitful sleep on his sofa, but was awoken by a very loud banging coming from the general direction of his door. He stood up groggily. He didn't really feel like seeing anyone, but this person clearly felt like seeing him. "Hold on," he mumbled half-heartedly as he shuffled toward the door. His eyes were barely open when he exposed the person on the other side, but he looked up miserably nonetheless.

The poor man jumped back in alarm at the sight he was met with. At first he thought it was Lovino because of his face, which was contorted in absolute fury. But then he saw that this person's hair was redder than Lovino's. It was Feliciano. The next thing he noticed was that he held a gun with both hands. Feliciano, sweet little Feliciano had a gun held out and it nearly touched the Spaniard's forehead.

"Feli!" he cried fearfully. "What are you doing here? With a gun?" he added frantically.

"Oh I think you know _Spain_," the redhead hissed.

Antonio held his hands up to his face, as if they might stop the bullet, should the furious man choose to shoot him. "W-what are you talking about, Feli?" He had no idea what the problem was, and nothing to defend himself with, so he opted to play the weakling, since he would lose in an instant anyway.

"What am I talking about?" the Italian replied, eerily calm. "I'm talking about my brother you son of a bitch!"

"Lovi?" Antonio's eyes went wide. "What about him?"

"You fucking dumped him! He hasn't come out of his room in _two weeks_ and it's all your fault! You promised me that you would never hurt him. But you have. And now," he stepped closer and gestured with the gun, "you're going to pay."

"Wait, wait, wait! I didn't do anything wrong!"

"The hell you didn't!"

"No you have to listen! He didn't want to be with me so I told him to leave!" The poor man was waving his hands frantically, trying to save his skin.

But the Italian just stepped closer and leaned in. "Didn't want to be with you? What the fuck gave you that idea?"

The Spaniard tried to get the point across as quickly as possible. "Well at first I thought he did but then I see him with you and he's always smiling and he's never like that with me and I thought maybe he would rather be with you so I wanted to be nice and..." He looked at Feliciano, who had lowered his gun. He allowed his hands to stop waving so madly.

"And?" the redhead urged him rather harshly to continue, still fingering his gun, should the man say anything wrong.

"And... I just wanted him to be happy. And I don't think he was happy with me. So I told him to get out so that he could be happy... with you." He finished quietly, pain and regret and jealousy showing clearly through his words.

"Antonio... you..." Feliciano dropped his gun. "Idiot!"

"E-eh? What?" Antonio stammered, bewildered.

"I don't think I've ever met anyone so stupid!"the boy cried, stepping forward again to hug the confused man.

"Feli... I don't think that... I follow."

The Italian hugged the brunet tightly. "You have to talk to him."

"Wha-? Do I look like I want to get killed?"

Feliciano grabbed the man's face to get his point across. "Listen. You've made a mistake. Lovino was never, _never_ happier than when he was with you. Take it from someone who's known him his whole life. You _have_ to talk to him. He still loves you. He always has."

"But-"

"No buts! Go!" the redhead cried, slapping the man lightly on the back of the head.

"S-sì!" he squeaked, running to grab some shoes. He was out the door within less than a minute, leaving Feliciano alone in his house.

The boy grinned. "Well that worked pretty well," he said to himself, picking up his unloaded gun and stepping happily out the front door.

...

"Lovi!" Antonio cried, knocking frantically on the door. "Lovi! Open up!" He got to hit the door one more time before Ludwig answered, looking (and feeling) rather awkward. The Spaniard was about to ask where Lovino was, but the blond cut him off.

"He's in the kitchen." He pointed toward the room. Antonio breathlessly shot off in that direction. "Glad you finally decided to come," Ludwig muttered as he closed the door.

"Lovi!" the green-eyed man called again as he burst into the kitchen.

Lovino's eyes went wide when he saw him. "Wh-what the hell are _you _doing here?" he cried through a mouthful of bread.

Antonio sighed in relief. The Italian just looked so beautiful to him right then. So beautiful he could have cried. "Lovi, I'm so sorry!" he wailed, wrapping his arms around the surprised man. "I'm an idiot! I'm such an idiot! I was so wrong! Can you please, please, please forgive me?" he babbled, never letting go of the man in his arms.

Lovino struggled to swallow, his throat very dry. He squirmed around, trying to get free, but Antonio would not let him. "Spain!" he struggled. "Spain let go! I can't breathe!"

"I don't care. I'm never going to let you go again," Antonio said softly into his hair.

Lovino stopped struggling. "Antonio... what happened?" he asked, voice shaking slightly.

"I was an idiot."

"Glad my words finally got through," the Italian snorted. He was silent for a moment and his face fell again. "But... won't you be happier without me?"

The other's body immediately stiffened. "What makes you think that?"

"Well it's just..." Lovino started, glad that Antonio could not see the blush on his face. "You're always smiling. But there's this one face that I've only ever seen when you look at me. And it's not happy. You only frown around me. I thought... I thought I made you unhappy." His eyes were beginning to tear up and he tried to fight the moisture back, with only minor success.

"Nononono Lovi," Antonio said soothingly. "You," he looked into the other's face, "have never made me unhappy. Ever." Lovino looked sceptical. "I promise. But you worry me sometimes." He put his head back where it had been.

"Why do I worry you?"

"Because. Whenever you look unhappy, I try to find out why. But you never tell me. It's not good to keep things pent up Lovi." He sighed. "And I started to think that maybe _I _was the reason you looked unhappy." Lovino did not respond. "...Did I ever make you unhappy, Lovi?"

The smaller man considered this for a moment. Has _he ever made me unhappy? Angry, sure. Annoyed. Frustrated. But unhappy? _"No," he said finally. "No, you didn't."

Antonio smiled at this. "Good." They stood there for a few silent moments. "I'm sorry for telling you to leave. I wanted you to be happy."

"Idiot."

They both chuckled at this. "Can I kiss you Lovi? It's been _so_ long."

Lovino blushed. "Do whatever you want bastard," he huffed, still smiling.

"Yay," the Spaniard cheered softly before pressing his lips to the other's softly. It felt so _good _to kiss those lips again. He had missed them so much. And now, here they were, moving happily against his once again. He couldn't stop smiling. "Te amo Lovi," he said huskily through the kiss.

"Ti amo, Antonio." With that, he leaned his head in once again to press their lips passionately together, pouring everything he had felt into it. The anger. The sadness. The loss. The confusion. The longing. The love. All of it.

He wrapped his arms around Antonio's neck, pulling himself closer to him. In return, he was pushed to the edge of the counter and it dug into the small of his back. It should have hurt, but the impact just made him groan needily into the other's lips. Antonio pushed harder, all teeth and tongue. Lovino had decided long ago that the man tasted like cinnamon, and he was glad to find that he still did.

"Lovi," Antonio groaned, snaking his hands up underneath the other's shirt to feel the soft flesh which he had so missed. He rubbed greedily, claiming it once again as his own, running his fingers up and down over the hot skin. He felt Lovino's– _his _Lovino's abdomen; the fine muscles which contracted with pleasure at his touch, the fine hairs which stood up in anticipation, and the blood which flowed hotly beneath his fingertips for the first time in what felt like forever.

"A-Antonio," Lovino gasped raggedly.

"Mn?"

"Bedroom. We're in the kitchen," he breathed.

"Mhmn," the Spaniard replied, but making no move to relocate himself.

Lovino pulled back and put his hands on the other's chest, pushing him back. "I'm serious. Do you remember the last time we had sex in the kitchen?"

Antonio grimaced at the memory. "Fine." With that, he grabbed the Italian's hand and pulled him quickly in the direction of the nearest door.

"Bathroom," Lovino advised him. The Spaniard looked around searching for a bedroom. "Here," Lovino sighed, leading the other to his own bedroom. He managed to yank him quickly inside and shut the door before he was attacked again.

Sorry guys. I'm gonna end it here. No lemons, remember? But at least they're back together, right? By the way... If anyone wants to write the lemon that we all know follows this scene... *wink wink* I totally encourage it as long as you send it to me. One last chapter tomorrow! Please be sure to review!


	6. Chapter 6

Feliciano approached the door of his home with a dreamy sort of smile on his face. He hummed softly to himself as he walked, very pleased. He was a big startled when a deep voice interrupted his happy thoughts.

"So I take it you talked to Spain?" Ludwig asked casually from the steps.

"Eh?" The redhead looked around. "Oh hi Ludwig! Yes I did talk to Spain," he grinned, pulling out his gun and pretending to shoot.

Ludwig's eyes went wide. "Feli! You took a gun?"

The Italian giggled at the blond's reaction. "Luddy, it's not even loaded, see?" he demonstrated by pulling the trigger. "Besides, you know a country can't die from being shot!" he said airily, as if he were just speaking of the weather.

Ludwig considered this for a moment. "...Hey. Does Spain know that?" he asked suspiciously.

Feliciano giggled. "He really should, but he didn't seem to! Isn't that funny?"

The big German snorted. "Feli, that was mean."

The other smiled and placed himself happily on his lap. "No. It was persuasion. There's a difference." He laughed a bit and leaned into Ludwig's chest. "So I'm guessing they made up?" he asked, knowing the answer.

The larger man grimaced. "Yeah. I left the house pretty early. The got loud."

Feliciano laughed aloud at this. "They always are!" he grinned.

"Yeah well I didn't feel like hearing it."

"...I wonder if Lovi's going to be able to walk tomorrow?" the Italian wondered. Ludwig just shrugged, not wanting to think about it. "Well, I should call Gilbert."

"Why are you calling Gilbert?"

"Because he asked me to let him know when they worked it out."

"Oh... He really does love butting into other people's business, doesn't he?"

"He sure does," Feliciano said cheerily as his portable rang.

"_The Awesome Prussia here. Who is this?"_

"Hi Gilbert! It's Italy!"

"_Ah~ Feli! What awesome news have you brought me?"_

"You owe me twenty euros."

"_Aww, you gotta be kiddin'!"_

"Nope. They're here at my house. Spain broke first."

"_What did you do...?" _Gilbert asked suspiciously.

"I _talked _to him." Feliciano answered slyly.

"_Cheater. Fine. Twenty euros. I'll give it to you... some other time. Gotta go, bye!" _With that, the line went dead.

"Did you two really bet on who would break first?"

"Si. And I won."

"You really are horrible, Feli," Ludwig said affectionately, wrapping his arms around the other.

"No. I just know Lovino better than Prussia does," he laughed. They sat in silence for a few minutes until they heard Lovino cursing very loudly in Italian from inside the house. "...So do you wanna go to dinner?"

"Yeah, let's do that," Ludwig replied immediately, standing up and hurriedly walking off toward his car.

Yeah, I think that's the end of this one. I was thinking that the next sequel be GerIta and start out at the dinner that they just mentioned. What say you? Write it in the reviews! (And anything else you have to say) Later guys!


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